Remember The Time
by alien09
Summary: Gibbs 'discusses' Temperance with Booth. Third part in the 'Red Shoes' universe. Ensemble with NCIS. Canon couples. HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**a/n:**

**1) This is the third story in the "Red Shoes" series. They are, in chronological order - Red Shoes, I'll Say I'm Sorry Now and Remember The Time. There's also a NCIS side fic called All That Lies Between Us (of which you can request a particular one shot for anything in the Red Shoes universe. Just send me an email via my Profile).**

**2) I have been nominated for an NCIS Fanfiction award (best crossover). I am trying to contain my excitement! The link is posted on my Profile page if you want to show your support. Voting begins on July 15th!  
**

**3) The Fanfic Jungle Awards are up and running. If you would like to nominate a fic for Bones, House and Wicked. The link to the site is on my Profile. Nominations are now open!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Miguel and Brennan's foster backstory.**

Brennan chewed her lip, cradling her cell in front of her.

It had been a few weeks since Booth and her had returned from London. Zack was committed, her father had waltzed back into her life, Hodgins and Angela were no longer Hodgins and Angela, and Booth was being…well, Brennan didn't really know what was going through Booth's mind. They were usually so in sync with each that it was rather disconcerting to realize that she couldn't read the patterns flitting across his face like she used to.

But then again, Booth's death still hung over them like a black cloud. Brennan knew that that they were slowly, steadily, tentatively closing back to each other and yet their relationship was, well, she couldn't really call it a relationship, could she? Neither of them had discussed ending it – after all, Brennan knew that Booth was what she wanted – but there was a distinct sense of separation now. It was as if they were consciously giving the other the time and space to come to terms with whatever had happened between them.

It was something that Brennan was both grateful and resentful of.

Sighing heavily she pressed the phone to her ear again, replaying the message Miguel had left on her voicemail.

'Hello Temperance. I realize that I should be delivering this in person, but I'm still trying to tie up a few loose ends back in Chicago. I need to close a few chapters before I can really begin anew. I hope you understand. I thought about stopping by the old house…I haven't decided yet. I'll try calling you again. Hopefully this time you'll pick up.'

The flat dial tone made her place her Blackberry down on the table, wondering why Miguel saw need to go back to a place that Brennan knew she never wanted to revisit. But perhaps Miguel dealt with pain in his own way.

_Well, I hope the Jespers offer him some consolation._

Looking out on the forensic platform, Wendell's shadow sent a longing through Brennan for when things were simpler. Before everything had spiraled out of control. Back when she had her family together, no matter how eccentric and dysfunctional everyone was. The shrill ring of her office phone shook her out of her thoughts.

'Dr Temperance Brennan,' she answered automatically.

'So what are you wearing?'

'Tony?' Temperance blinked, her gaze shooting to the clock on her wall. 'Aren't you supposed to be working?'

'I am,' he spoke as if she had just insulted him. A faint murmuring in the background was followed by a pained yelp. Brennan rolled her eyes at Tony and McGee's childish behaviour.

'Well I'm busy. Is this important?'

'Ouch,' Tony feigned hurt. 'Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.'

'I don't know what that means.'

'Why so crabby? Did Booth do something? Because McGee's been going to the gym, apparently. He needs to be blooded.'

'Booth hasn't done anything,' Brennan responded.

_Which is the problem, isn't it?_

'Trouble in paradise, huh? Lot of that going around.' Something in Tony's voice made her sit up in her chair.

'Is this about Ziva?' Brennan pressed.

'No.' His reply was too quick, too hasty. Tony must have realized this as well because he attempted to sound nonchalant. 'I was just wondering if you've heard from her lately, is all.'

'You see her more than I do. In fact, she sits in the desk directly across from yours for more than eight hours a day.'

'That doesn't mean she sees me,' Tony muttered. Brennan thought that McGee must be eavesdropping. There was a rustle of fabric before Tony spoke again.

'She's been acting all shifty since she's come back from the Holy Land.'

'Well I'm sure it was hard for her to see her father again. You know how she feels about him,' Brennan reminded him, thinking of Max.

'No. It's more than that.'

'Tony,' Brennan said, exhaling. 'Is there an empirical foundation to your suppositions?'

'What?'

'Leave Ziva alone. She doesn't need you hovering around and poking your nose everywhere. She keeps her drawer locked for a reason.'

'Ah ha! You did speak to her!' Tony crowed triumphantly. 'I did that yesterday. And for the record, it's illegal to keep things from me. I'm going to get it legislated.'

Brennan paused, detecting something in Tony's tone that made her smirk ever so slightly. She had heard from Tony about the undercurrent of sexual tension between the NCIS agents. Abby had sent her a detailed chronology of Ziva's relationship with the Italian when Brennan had made the mistake of asking the forensic scientist for her opinion. Since then, she had seemed to conclude that Brennan was now part of Operation Tiva.

While Brennan would have been more than happy to see Tony and Ziva find happiness together, she didn't think it was going to be as easy as Abby thought it would be. There was too much baggage there, something Brennan was all too familiar with. Jeanne Benoit had been a blow to Ziva though the Israeli had never explicitly said so. Brennan could see it in the way she treated Tony - how she now reined in the impulse to push herself aggressively at Tony, how Ziva now shuttered herself off from anything remotely personal.

Tony was still reeling from the abrupt end to his relationship with Jeanne. After finding out that Jeanne had accused him of murder, Tony had finally seemed accept that what he thought was between them was really over. It had stung to see the desolate expression on her friend's face when he had turned up at her down, suit rumpled and his cheeks sticky. They had split a bottle of scotch quietly between them, neither saying a word. When Brennan had awoken the next morning, Tony was gone. _Thank You_ was all the note had said.

She had simply taken the bottle and tumblers into the kitchen, knowing that Tony would seek her out when he needed her.

Booth had stopped by that morning as well, she remembered, and had frowned seeing the crumpled blanket and pillow. That frown had deepened when he discovered Tony had slept on the couch, but he hadn't pushed the subject further, merely pressing his lips and telling her that they were going to be late.

'Tempe?' Tony's question made her blink.

'Tony, Ziva will tell you when she's ready.'

'_Now _you learn about girl talk? _Now_? Angela's wrong you know. Girl talk is actually gender neutral. In fact, aren't we all about anti-discrimination and equality around here?'

'Hey Bones, we got a body!' Booth's shout reverberated through the Jeffersonian.

'I have to go,' Brennan said into the phone. 'They found a body.'

'Fine.' Tony sounded as if he was pouting. 'But remember DiNozzo's Rule 4?'

'Not particularly,' Brennan remarked absently, unbuttoning her lab coat.

'Don't desist when they resist.'

'C'mon Bones! We don't have all day!'

'I'll speak to you later Tony. I promise. And I suggest you desist your investigation before Ziva resists. Violently.'

'I live for danger. Have fun with the boyfriend,' Tony said before hanging up.

Noticing the sunglasses on Booth's face, and how he didn't speak to her as she got into the SUV, Brennan didn't think it was going to be very fun at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: reasons for late update:**

**my laptop died, taking with it anything and everything on the HDD**

**I've been in Europe**

**University has just started back up and I'm in my penultimate year **

**Just thought I should justify my tardiness.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Brennan's AU foster story.**

Booth knew he was being petty.

He blamed it on the downward spiral his relationship with Brennan had taken; the fact that Rebecca was being a bitch about his time with Parker; or maybe the time spent with that snot-nosed shrink the FBI had shunted them off to now that Sweets was apparently wetting his pants whenever Booth came within a fifty feet radius.

But, most important of all, he blamed Tony.

It was irrational, he knew. Booth wasn't insecure by any means. The flashy ties, loud socks and Cocky belt buckle weren't totems or whatever the hell Gordon Gordon had labeled them. They were a signature, an unmistakable mark that he was comfortable in his own skin and wasn't afraid to show the world how well-adjusted he was.

_Why isn't she talking again?_

Gripping the steering wheel, feeling the skin of his palms slip against the leather, Booth studied Brennan out of the corner of his eye. Her forehead was creased and there was what looked like the beginnings of a significant frown at the corners of her lips.

_Her eyes are cloudy._

This lack of communication that had somehow become the norm between them was grating. That day in her office, when she had looked up at him with that tear-streaked face and told him that he had betrayed her, Booth had felt his chest constrict so tightly that it had been almost unbearable to breathe.

'You _left_ Booth. The one thing you said you'd never do.'

Her words had echoed in his skull like a sledgehammer. The guilt had welled up inside and corroded him slowly, eating away at his insides like a form of self-flagellation. He would look out at the sky and try to ignore the distance between them on the sporadic nights Brennan would share his bed. Physical intimacy had been limited to a few chaste kisses. Booth had tried holding her hand once and had felt her fingers stiffen upon contact. Since then, he hadn't attempted it again.

So now, essentially, they were back at the beginning. Booth touched the small of her back and made limited conversation.

_God, when did things between us get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?_

Nodding at the rookie manning the tape line, Booth swung the SUV into a vacant lot.

Brennan cleared her throat. Booth glanced her way.

'Is this where the body is?' Brennan asked, making a poor attempt at conversation.

'Yeah. Coupla poacher slash wild life nuts decided to trespass on government property last night. Looking for some huge walnut tree when they spotted the bones,' Booth said, exiting the car. They meandered through the throng of technicians and agents, Booth forcibly placing his hand on Brennan's tailbone. His girlfriend fluttered her eyelashes before returning her gaze straight ahead.

'Here we are,' Booth announced, gesturing upwards. Brennan squinted against the sun, taking in the partial human skull and various other bones scattered amongst the branches.

'Most likely a wind deposited them there,' Brennan commented.

'Seems likely.'

'Well, they didn't come from the ground or from the sky. That leaves the wind as the most plausible reason,' Brennan continued, inching forward. The Jeffersonian jumpsuit she was wearing rustled nosily and Booth couldn't help but stare, remembering the milky skin and smooth texture lying underneath. Seeing a nearby squint do the same, Booth glared. The younger man swallowed before aiming his camera in another direction.

'Here comes the Yellowstone Brigade,' Booth muttered under his breath, seeing a visibly upset woman storming through in a Park Officer uniform.

'All these people down here?' The woman stated, waving her arms around to encompass the press of FBI personnel. 'They need to clear out. Now.'

Calmly removing his sunglasses, Booth noticed Brennan drift towards a table where all the bones that the techs had managed to recover were laid out. The bald, black Park Officer stood with her hands on her hips.

'Well, Officer Randall,' Booth started, spotting her nametag. 'All these people are looking for the rest of that over there.' Randall followed his finger towards the table.

'They're right in the middle of the Masked Booby migration path!' Randall exclaimed. Booth lifted an eyebrow.

'Masked _Booby_? You're kidding right?'

Randall appeared affronted as Booth trekked over to his partner.

'The Department of Wildlife and Fisheries does not kid, Agent Booth.'

'Well then whoever named that thing must have been suffering some kind of mental incapacity,' Booth remarked wryly.

'The Masked Booby is a large seabird of the gannet family, Sulidae,' Brennan noted absently, fingers running lightly down a bone.

'Agent Booth,' Randall pressed, though she shot Brennan a surprised look at her knowledge.

'Just give me a minute and then you can have all the Boobies you want, alright?' Booth told Randall, slashing a hand through the air. 'You got anything Bones?'

'This one's a portion of the sacrum. It's definitely human. There's char marks.' Booth wrinkled his nose as Brennan brought the bone to her nose and took a hearty sniff.

'God, I hate it when you do that.'

'You hate a lot of things I do.' Before Booth had time to process what seemed like a throwaway comment, Brennan had already pushed on. 'Fresh burn. Days or weeks rather than months.'

'I found a hyoid Dr Brennan!' The same tech that had been staring at Brennan previously all but forced the bone into her hands, avoiding Booth's annoyed look. 'Dead guy's hyoid.'

'"Guy" as in sexually non-specific urban colloquialism, or in reference to the gender normally associated with penis?' Brennan demanded, fixing the tech with a piercing glare.

'Uh…the penis?' The tech answered feebly.

'There are similar char marks on this as well,' Brennan murmured under her breath. 'Booth, have there been any fires nearby recently?'

'Officer Randall?' Booth prompted.

'No,' Randall shook her head.

'The body of the hyoid is fractured. This man was strangled, and I can deduce murdered.' Brennan looked at Booth with that familiar gleam in her eyes for just a second. 'We'll need this whole area searched.'

'Hear that Officer?' Booth said, slapping his palms together loudly. 'According to the good Doctor here, your Boobies are out of luck.'

'Caribbean birds very rarely venture into the north during their migration patterns Officer Randall,' Brennan offered in what Booth thought must be a conciliatory gesture. Randall simply pressed her lips together so hard they were almost bleached of colour, yanking the walkie talkie strapped to her belt viciously as she stomped off.

'How do you even know what a Masked Booby is?' Booth wondered out loud. Brennan looked startled at his question, and Booth noted with regret that it was the first non-work related conversation they had had in what seemed like forever.

'Ducky has many hobbies. Bird watching is one of them,' Brennan said with a small, tentative smile.

The mention of the NCIS medical examiner made something in Booth's gut twist. The expression on his face became less curious and Brennan's smile dimmed in response.

'I'm going to go touch base with the first responder,' Booth mumbled.

He turned his back on her, leaving her behind with a human bone hanging limply from her fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

The oppressive silence that Booth had unilaterally decided upon had persisted until their arrival at the Jeffersonian. The only conversation that had occurred had pertained to the case. The sunglasses had come back on, which Brennan had taken as a sign that Booth was unhappy. It was a subtle thing that she had picked up on in the time she had known her partner – the tinted glasses did more than shield his eyes from the sun; it blocked off any access to what Brennan had heard called the windows to his soul.

Booth's sunglasses were akin to her wall.

'Booth?'

'Yeah?' His answer was short, punctuated by the sharp slam of the car door. The heat beat down on the road, so much so that if you looked close enough you could see it emanating off the asphalt.

'Never mind,' Brennan replied, turning her face away from him. She waited for his palm to find her back, and couldn't decide if she was surprised when he simply walked ahead of her, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

_How had things gotten this bad? How have I let things get this bad?_

The question slithered down and clenched tightly around her heart. Brennan understood that couples usually had a honeymoon period when they first established themselves. The novelty of being with someone who loved you, flaws and all, was intoxicating. She had heard from other women how soon the malaise would set in, when love became something that had to be nurtured instead of natural. All those faults you had found endearing would become irritating, and more often than not the friction would make you question why you were there in the first place.

But Brennan had thought her and Booth were above this. After all, they had had four years to settle into a pattern, a way of accommodating each other with the least amount of conflict. Sweets (Brennan found herself frowning at the name) had told them they were complementary. She had assumed that this would carry over into any kind of romantic relationship that they would have, and Brennan had been proven right. Of course they had yelled and screamed at each other – it was unavoidable when their jobs required them to blur the lines between the professional and the personal. But all in all, Brennan had thought Booth and herself had proved the critics wrong.

Booth had made her fall in love with him.

_But then he "died". That's what changed everything isn't it?_

Looking at Booth out of the corner of her eye, she tempered the urge to place her hand on his cheek, run her fingers through her hair, watch his eyes crinkle in response as he gazed back at her tenderly.

She missed that, those moments.

She missed _him_.

Unconsciously squaring her shoulders, unaware of the inquiring look Booth flashed her way, Brennan decided that it was time she became the heart. The person usually afforded that role was proving unsatisfactory to the task. Brennan could feel the annoyance swell and lap against the threshold of her patience. Hadn't she told Booth that they were the center? Hadn't she told him that she wasn't angry?

_You told him he betrayed you Temperance. The man has always shouldered so much – why did you need to add to it?_

The thought made her freeze in her tracks?

'Gibbs?'

Booth's surprised exclaimation made Brennan blink. Taking in the Sears suitcoat, close cropped silver hair and coffee cup clutched possessively in one hand, Brennan came to stand beside her boyfriend and his tense shoulders.

'Jethro? What are you doing here? Did something happen to Tony?' Booth's spine became ramrod straight at her question, while Gibbs merely smiled.

'Why do people always think it's _me _who does something? May I remind everyone that Officer David and Probie have been involved in-'

'What the hell are you doing here Gibbs?' Booth's voice made Tony snap his mouth shut and elicited an amused chuckle from the team leader. Brennan gave Booth a reproachful look, which he chose to ignore.

'Doing my job. Those bones you found out at Virginia may be someone from the Corp,' Gibbs replied simply, taking a long pull of what Brennan knew to be pure, unfiltered caffeine.

Booth narrowed his eyes. 'With all due respect Agent Gibbs, until such time those remains are identified as someone that may be of interest to NCIS, this case is _mine_.'

'Hey, you want to cool down a little Booth?'

'Was I talking to you DiNozzo?' Booth bit out, pointing a finger at Tony who didn't back down.

_Alright, that's it._

'Booth? Could I speak to you for a minute?'

'Not now Bones,' Booth shrugged her off. Unceremoniously gripping her partner's bicep, Brennan gave Tony and Gibbs a apologetic smile while sharing an understanding look with Cam who had emerged form her office.

'Bones-'

'_Shut up _Seeley.' Her tone made Booth clam up. Shoving him into her office, Brennan locked the door firmly behind her and set about closing the blinds.

'Is there a reason you manhandled me in here Bones?'

'Yes,' Brennan bit out. 'I've had enough of your childish behaviour. Grow up Booth.'

'Excuse me?' Booth's voice was quiet and did nothing to mask the anger behind his words. 'What did you say?'

'Jethro and Tony have not done anything to elicit the aggressive and rude behaviour you've shown them,' Brennan said, jabbing a finger at his hard chest. 'They are not the enemy Booth. And neither am I.'

'This is ridiculous.'

His words made her throat close up. 'No Booth. What is ridiculous is the fact that we haven't had a decent conversation for months. We haven't had sex. God Booth, you've barely _touched _me!'

Booth seemed to shrink into himself, shoulders hunching downwards as he crossed his arms defensively. 'Don't make it sound so one-sided Bones. We haven't talked because we've both heard enough.'

'What?' Brennan breathed out, confused.

Booth let out a bitter chuckle. 'I'm the bad guy right? I died and now everything's the way it is because I fucked up? I accept that. God, do I ever accept that.' Brennan couldn't miss the self-deprecation. 'But we are the way we are because _you _haven't forgiven me.'

'I told you we were the center Booth, that I wasn't angry anymore.'

'We're barely holding on Bones. I mean, look at us,' Booth gestured towards the space between them. His face was weary. 'And then I walk into your apartment and I find out Tony's been there-'

'_Don't_,' Brennan hissed, taking a step forward. '_Don't _make Tony the excuse. I've told you from the start that we're friends. I'm with _you_-'

'I'm not the one going around saying how monogamy is an archaic practice.' His words were like a slap to the face. She had cried for him, bled for him, sacrificed for this man. And he was throwing it back in her face, making her want to turn against him

'I know what you're trying to do Booth,' she told him, relishing in the brief glimmer of surprise that flittered across his face. 'If you think that I'm not invested enough, that I don't care enough, then maybe there's a reason why there's all this space between us.'

Her words rang between them, Booth stoic as Brennan struggled to remain in control.

_I will not cry in front of him._

'I think…I think that we need a break.' He sounded tired.

'Is that really what you want Booth?' She heard him swallow, look to the side. Something which felt like defeat, like failure, tugged at the edge of her.

_No! Fight for him Temperance!_

Oh, but she was so tired of this. Tired of feeling like he would go away again, tired of him looking at her with all that guilt, tired that he didn't trust her enough with his heart…

'**Why Blue?' Thomas asked her sadly. Temperance dug her fingers into her arms, grateful for the pain.**

_**She told me I was nothing. That no one cared enough to stick around then, what makes me think they'd stick around now**_**, she thought. **_**She was right.**_

'**Her nose wasn't that great anyway,' Temperance said with a lift of her shoulders, looking down at her bruised knuckle.**

'If that's what you want,' she replied without looking at him. He stood there as she opened the door, hand lingering on the knob as if waiting for him to stop her.

He didn't.

A soft sound that was akin to a sob escaped her as she twisted the door open.

_I can't fight for someone who doesn't want to be fought for._


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: This might sound slightly egotistical, but where are the reviews? Have people stopped liking the story? The reviews are the main reason I write (well okay, ONE of the many), but they are important to keep me going. And they motivate me to update sooner.**

**To all those who have reviewed, thank you. It means the universe to me.**

**On with the show.**

_You did the right thing Ranger. This way, there's less hurt and more space for you both to figure out what you need._

Squeezing his eyes shut, Booth tried to push away the memory of Brennan's shining eyes and stifled sob. The way she had clenched her fists and told him that she was invested, that there wasn't anything going on between her and Tony and how dare he question her commitment.

Collapsing onto the couch, Booth rubbed his face.

_What now?_

He was pretty sure Brennan wouldn't want to see his face again for a while.

Booth caught the suspicious look Tony sent his way when he emerged from Brennan's office, the Italian's green eyes cutting back and forth between Brennan's rigid back and what felt like Booth's weary face.

_Did that actually happen? Did you really just tell the woman you love that you didn't want her anymore? What's wrong with you?_

Pushing those thoughts to the side, Booth met Gibbs' blue eyes without flinching.

'If this guy is Navy, you're welcome to him,' Booth told him, rubbing his elbow. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Angela hasten after Brennan.

Gibbs merely lifted an eyebrow, as if he hadn't expected any other answer.

'What's wrong with Tempe?' Tony asked. Biting back the somewhat childish reply that lingered on the edge of his tongue, Booth lifted a shoulder.

'Oh there you are,' Cam fluttered to his side, taking a step back in surprise upon noticing the NCIS agents. 'Agent Gibbs-'

'Jethro, please,' Gibbs corrected, giving her a smile that actually made the corners of his eyes fold. Tony blinked.

Cam's dimples deepened. 'Jethro,' she acknowledged. 'Is there something I should know about?'

'Not at the moment,' Booth replied, fighting to keep his tone level. Cam let out what sounded like a sigh of relief.

'What?'

'Well, I saw Dr Brennan and she didn't look particularly happy. I need to…inform her of something,' Cam told him evasively. Booth narrowed his eyes.

'Did you just say _unhappy_?'

'_What _Camille?' Booth pushed, ignoring Tony's question.

'Well, you see, I might have hired Max.' Cam squeezed one eye shut, the other giving Booth a sheepish look.

'As in Keenan? As in Max Keenan. You hired Max Keenan? For what?' Booth exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. 'Did you need to make sure the safety deposit boxes at the Jeffersonian were secure?'

'It just so happens that Max Keenan is a qualified science teacher.'

'That was fifteen years ago Camille!' Booth pointed out, running a hand through his hair.

'Why does that name sound familiar?' Tony muttered.

'Do I need to remind you who exactly is in charge of this institution Seeley?' Cam retorted, putting her hands on her hips, squaring her shoulders. Gibbs sipped his coffee, amused.

'You know how Bones feels about him,' Booth reminded her.

'Feels about who?' Her voice made his throat seize up. Shifting his eyes away, Booth felt Tony brush by him and murmur something in Brennan's ear. Angela stood a few paces away, arms crossed and glare firmly affixed on the FBI liaison.

'Tony,' Brennan said the name as if it were a plea for patience. 'Dr Sayoran?'

The forensic pathologist sucked in a deep breath, pasting a forced smile on her face.

'As you're aware, the Jeffersonian has a program whereby we stage scientific lessons for middle schools in the vicinity-'

'I'm aware of the program. Zack used to participate.'

Booth tried to not notice the way her voice wavered when she said her former protégé's name.

'Oh yeah. Hey boss, remember the hat he made? The one with the windmills?' Tony prompted.

'Well, Dr Guttenberg has retired and we needed to fill the vacancy. And, well,' Cam paused. 'Max Keenan was the most qualified-'

'You hired my father.' It was said dully, with no inflection. Cam seemed startled at Brennan's lack of response, casting her eyes towards Booth before nodding her head.

'Errr yes. Now, I know you and your father haven't had the best relationship-'

'It's fine Dr Sayoran,' Brennan told her. Booth glanced her way, his heart constricting when he caught sight of the faint red rims around her eyes. That was the only indication that something had happened between them, something Booth wasn't sure had been the right thing.

_I think we need a break._

A break from feeling so far apart? A break from the blame he still carried his shoulders like Atlas? A break from the constant, ever-present sense of space between them?

_Well, you got all the space you wanted Ranger._

It was for the best really, Booth told himself absently. After all, she hadn't exactly fought him on that front. If that's what you want Booth, she had said. But the words had been punctuated by that sharp, staccato sound of her trying to stifle what had sounded like a sob.

_She didn't fight for me._

_Would you have changed your mind if she did?_

Booth wasn't sure. And that's what made everything all the more confusing.

Gibbs cleared his throat. 'You running the DNA right now?'

'I haven't had time to examine the bones Jethro,' Brennan seemed to snap out of her stupor somewhat.

_Of course it'd be about her stupid bones._

'You will,' Tony assured her, squeezing her bicep. Booth looked away.

_Don't make Tony the excuse._

Cam's phone chirped. Excusing herself, Booth heard her say a few words before she turned back towards the little knot of people that had gathered below the platform.

'We got a match.' The apologetic look Cam sent his way made Booth's nerves stretch taunt. 'Hit came back from the Armed Forces database. Our guy was Marine Corp.'

Tony rubbed his hands together.

'NCIS will be taking it from here,' Gibbs all but crowed. Booth wanted to wipe the smug smirk on the older man's face.

'My bones-'

'Our director will be making a formal request for Dr Brennan's assistance during the duration of this case,' Gibbs continued, shooting Cam a meaningful look.

'What?' Booth demanded. 'Dr Brennan is part of _my_-'

'I assume I will be working out of the Yard?' Brennan asked serenely.

'Cam-'

'Don't look at me Seeley. I don't have a problem with this. The FBI isn't the only government agency that needs a forensic anthropologist,' Cam offered.

'You're welcome to join in the investigation.' There was something in Gibbs' tone that made Booth take check.

'I'm sure Agent Booth has other things that need his time.' There was no missing the bitterness in Brennan's words. 'If it's alright with you Cam, I'll make sure everything is in order here before I leave?'

'That's…that's fine Dr Brennan,' Cam replied, confused as she watched Booth clench his jaw.

'Did I miss something?' Tony asked, wagging his finger in the gap between Booth and Brennan.

'Tell Ducky I'll be there soon,' Brennan said to Gibbs, who shared a loaded look with her before inclining his head.

'C'mon DiNozzo. Let's go make sure those bones get there before the Doc does,' Gibbs clapped Tony on the back, overtly nudging Tony towards the pathology lab.

'I'll just…go help them,' Cam said weakly before taking her leave.

Booth knew it was just the two of them now. Brennan didn't say anything, simply stood there. Booth couldn't bring himself to look at her face.

_This is the right thing._

'I'll get out of your space.' The words were whispered, but to Booth, she may as well have shouted them. The echoes of her footsteps resounded inside his head.

_Isn't it?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Bastard_.

Brennan all but threw her laptop into the bag, unmindful of whether she was inflicting any kind of permanent damage.

_Insufferable bastard!_

If he wanted space, she would damn well give him all the space she needed. She was Dr Temperance Brennan damn it, and she shed tears over _no _man. Brennan was half-grateful that the body didn't fall under FBI jurisdiction – it meant that she wouldn't have to compartmentalize around Booth, pretend that he hadn't just ripped out her heart and stomped all over it with his tasteful Gucci loafers.

Clenching her hands on the edge of the table, Brennan bit back an exasperated sigh when she saw Angela close the door to her office behind her.

'Not now Ange.'

'_Yes _now,' her best friend insisted, suddenly grasping her shoulders and looking Brennan square in the eye. 'What the hell happened?'

'Nothing,' Brennan denied, trying to shake off Angela's hold. The artist tightened her fingers in response.

'What happened between you and Booth?'

'He told me that we needed a break. Now if you don't mind-'

'_Excuse me_? Did you just tell me that Booth broke up with you?'

'Yes.' The word was forced out with something akin to an aggravated snarl. 'He told me that he needed space.'

'Oh Sweetie-'

'I can't do this now Angela. I need to…I need to get to the Yard and make sure I'm prepared for the body,' Brennan rambled. Gently, the forensic anthropologist lowered Angela's hands, giving them a brief squeeze before letting go.

'I'll stop by later tonight,' Angela made sure her tone was insistent, brooking no argument. Brennan gave her what sounded like a resigned sound of acquiescence. Seeing the forlorn expression on Brennan's face made her chest constrict in mutual sympathy. Impulsively, she threw her arms around her friend, making sure to squeeze Brennan tightly to her.

'You'll be fine,' Angela whispered, though she knew in her heart that the words were nothing but false comfort. She remembered the detached, broken woman Brennan had been when they thought Booth was dead, the cagey demeanour Brennan tried to hide whenever she was around Booth, as if she couldn't quite believe that the man she loved wouldn't do that to her again.

Angela thought Booth would have fixed it by now. After all, the man went around telling everyone that there wasn't a single person who knew Temperance Brennan as well as he did. But instead, the FBI agent had felt hurt, slighted, and weary. At least, that was how he looked to Angela. It had crossed her mind to march up to Booth and give him a swift does of painful reality, but she had thought that with time her two friends would find their way back to each other. Wasn't happiness enough of a motivation?

Obviously not.

Fixing her lips into a grim line, Angela set out on a mission. Upon discovering that Booth had retreated to the Hoover Building, the artist simply decided that dictating her demands on hostile territory was more than a welcome challenge.

'Oh ho. You have that look on your face, like you're plotting something,' Hodgins remarked. Angela turned to him, feeling a smile snake its way across her face. Hodgins fluttered his eyelashes, taking a cautious step back.

'No offense babe, but sometimes you scare me.'

'But you love me anyway,' Angela informed him, giving him a swift peck on the lips. 'If anyone wants me, I'm on my lunch break.'

'It's ten in the morning,' Hodgins reminded her. Angela smirked, gave Hodgins another kiss and promptly set off to the Hoover.

_It was time to fix things._

She found Booth behind his desk, paper strewn about and several manila folders stacked haphazardly one on top of the other. Pictures were lined up behind him on the mantle – one of Parker, one of the squint squad, and the biggest was of him and Brennan.

Taking in the look of pure, unadulterated bliss on both their faces, Angela wondered why the deities saw it fit to bless two of the most stubborn people she met with the prospect of true love.

'Angela,' Booth said her name as if he had been expecting her. Unrepentant for the angry looks she had been giving him before, now she knew the reason why her best friend had been crying, Angela made sure all the blinds were closed before she whirled around to face him, hands on her hips.

'What the hell is your problem?'

'I really don't think-' Booth started, his fingers pressed to his temples.

'That's right. You don't think,' Angela bit out, feeling all that repressed ire spring loose like a dam. 'Because if you had even the smallest bit of intelligence I thought you had, you wouldn't have told Bren that she wasn't good enough.'

'I said we needed a break Angela. Not-'

'I know alright?' Angela silenced him, waving her hand choppily through the air. 'I can see the two of you, see how hard it's been for the both of you since…' She trailed off significantly.

'I can't keep looking at her and seeing my mistakes Angela. I love her but that's not enough.'

'The Seeley Booth I know isn't a coward.'

'I'm not,' Booth gritted his teeth. Good, she had struck a nerve.

'You've loved her since the day you met her. You waited, bided your time, so that you could have this woman who you _know_ is the one thing that's as close to your soulmate as you'll ever get. But the moment things get dicey, you turn tail and run.'

'That's not it, and you know it.'

'Really?' Angela asked, quirking an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest. 'Enlighten me then. Tell me why you think this is the best way?'

'It just is, okay?'

Angela scrutinized him, seeing enough to rise from her chair.

'Look Booth, you broke her when you died. I know you weren't really,' Angela waved away his protests, 'but we all _thought _you were. Worst of all, Bren thought you'd died because you took a bullet that was meant for her. She thought _she'd killed you_.'

Booth appeared startled at her words. 'She said I'd betrayed her…'

'She thinks you did, just like her parents, like Russ. But what's different here is that you _came back to her_ Booth. God, I know how you think she doesn't trust you anymore, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you any less. While you're both trying to figure out whether the other thinks they've had enough-'

'Where is this going Angela?' Booth sounded tired.

'I want you to go back there and _un_break up with her! I want you to both quit acting so _stupid _and realize that you're the best thing that has happened to each other!'

'She _let _me do it Ange. She didn't fight me on it.'

'You mean the same way you haven't been fighting for her?' Angela let her words fester.

'She's with NCIS now.'

'Oh _please_. Like you haven't waved your badge around before,' Angela said. Hand on the knob, she twisted around to look at Booth.

'You make her happy Booth. Which is why I haven't kicked your ass yet. Because deep down you're a good guy, and you love her too much. So make things right. You've got a week.'

Closing the door, she caught a glimpse of the pensive expression on Booth's face.

_Tick tock, Booth. Tick tock._


	6. Chapter 6

Brennan bent low on the table, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. The quiet hum of the pathology lab at NCIS was a welcome respite. Ducky and Jimmy had allowed her to make a preliminary examination in peace, though the knowing glint in the older man's eyes had hinted at something deeper.

The pieces they had recovered from the tree were limited. Running a trained eye over the remains, Brennan was displeased to note that a definitive cause of death was out of the question.

'Ducky, would you hand me one of those sample jars? I think I see a sample that Abby could run through the mass spectrometer,' Brennan said, hearing the mechanic whine of the doors opening. When she received no answer, Brennan looked up and found her…partner staring back at her. Feeling her muscles tense, she slowly drew herself up, making sure her shoulders were square and her eyes hard.

'How did you get past Gibbs?' It wasn't the first thing she wanted to know. She wanted to know why he was here after telling her that he needed space. She wanted to know what gave him the right to decide on the best course of action, particularly when those actions were mistaken.

Most of all she wanted to know if he still cared.

'Agent Gibbs doesn't know I'm here. Yet,' the last part was mumbled as Booth fingered the plastic, laminated visitor's badge hanging off the lanyard. Brennan decided not to reply, instead leaning back down over the charred pieces of bone.

'Bones, will you please at least look at me?'

'I'm not in the mood to play whatever game this is Agent Booth. If you don't mind, I need to work,' Brennan told him curtly. A whisper of leather sole and then he was standing beside her, the warmth of his fingers on her chin. The twin pools of chocolate brown reflected back at her were serious.

'We need to talk about this,' he pressed. Brennan shrugged off his touch.

'We did. You decided that you needed _space_.'

Booth exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand across his face. 'You said I wasn't fighting hard enough, back there. Did you mean that?'

Brennan twisted her face away from him, staring hard at the line of metal cubby holes crawling across the wall.

'Angela came to talk to me after you left. She said some things that made me think.'

The urge to strangle her best friend swept through her. 'Angela says a lot of things Booth.'

'We're the best thing to happen to each other. That's what she said. And she was right.'

Brennan swallowed, feeling the latex slip against her skin as she curled her fists.

'I hurt you when I…left,' Booth started, inching towards her. 'You've hurt me by…just, I don't know. Rebuilding those walls, withdrawing from me.'

'How is making each other unhappy being the best thing to ever happen to either of us?' Brennan remarked wryly, slightly bitter.

'Because I love you and you love me.' He made it sound so simple.

'You're declaring your love for me in a morgue?'

'Hey, no one ever said we would be normal. An FBI agent and a forensic anthropologist who solve crimes by day and do highly illicit things at night?' Booth said, waggling his eyebrows. Brennan couldn't help but laugh. This made Booth smile.

'So you don't need your space anymore?' Brennan hated how vulnerable she sounded.

'Looks like the honeymoon period is over, huh?' Taking in Brennan's alarmed expression, Booth hastened to placate her. 'It's an expression. I meant that we've entered that part in our relationship where everything isn't going to be easy.'

Brennan looked at Booth, taking in the lines around his eyes and mouth, the dark purple smudges due to their heavy caseload and lack of sleep. But he was looking at _her _for the first time in a very long time and her heart thudded loudly in her ears.

'Look Temperance, I've waited a long time for someone to see me for who I really am, warts and all. We're both not perfect, but when we're together I feel like this is right, like this is where I'm supposed to be. Does that make sense?'

Abruptly, she grabbed his hand.

'I'm still mad at you for breaking up with me. And for labeling me an adultress,' she reminded him. His face pinched in response.

'Temperance Brennan, it would be my honour if you would find it in your heart to accept my utmost affection in exchange for a lifetime's supply of uncreasing adoration.' The hold on her hand tightened.

'I think we were having a moment before you said that,' Brennan poked fun at him, though her lips curved upwards.

'And about those things I said about you and Tony-'

'You mean when you were being an insufferable jackass?'

'I'm sorry,' he continued, pausing slightly.

'Tony is my friend Booth. You need to stop giving in to your baser instincts whenever I interact with other men. I've known Anthony for years, and he's never thought of me as anything more than a friend,' Brennan pointed out. Booth snorted in response.

'But…I'm sorry too,' she told him. 'For making these past few months difficult. It's takes two to do mambo, right?'

Booth seemed to smile in an amused kind of way, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

'I've missed us,' he whispered.

'Me too,' she whispered back, trying to keep the moment intimate, wanting to memorize this moment so that she could dredge it back up and sigh like those women in the movies.

'So do we forgive each other?'

Brennan didn't hesitate in nodding. The anger she had felt a few hours before had melted away, leaving behind a thin residue of hurt that she could deal with. It wouldn't fester like before. This time, Brennan decided, she would make it into something more…positive.

'I'm willing to fight for us if you are,' Brennan said. She felt his smile on her lips as he lowered his head, sucking in her bottom lip and touching his forehead against hers.

'Agent Booth!' McGee's voice startled them both. Brennan drew back, hands still clasped with her boyfriend. The former probationary agent took in what Brennan decided must have been her swollen lips and hands and started stuttering.

'What are you – I mean, how did you –'

Tony swooped in from behind, almost crashing into McGee.

'What did I say about obstructing the fire exits McGee?' Tony declared before spotting the two of them. His eyes shot to her latex gloved hands enfolded with Booth's.

'I really hope there isn't dead guy on those.'

**a/n: I would really like to apologize for the really sporadic updates. This semester has been taxing to say the least, between university and work. And my mum's going in for surgery soon and it's going to spiral. But thank you to those who have reviewed – it lends inspiration.**

**Can I impose a new rule? Can we please reach 30 reviews, minimum, before I post another chapter? I put a lot of work into these and I appreciate people leaving their thoughts behind. I make it a point to do that, so I'd sincerely like people to reciprocate ******

**To NCCJFAN – you'll get your wish in the next couple of chapters. Promise!**


	7. Chapter 7

Booth surreptitiously made his way over to the sinks to wash his hands.

_You got Bones back. Screw Angela's deadline. You did the right thing._

Glancing at Brennan out of the corner of his eye as he dried his hands, Booth contented himself with watching her work. Granted, the majority of their partnership was spent looking at her study human skeletons. But Booth had drawn a measure of peace from her activity. That furrow she would get in between her eyebrows, that narrow gaze of utmost concentration – it had soothed him immensely to know how connected she was to her work. How connected she was to their partnership perhaps.

'You didn't tell Gibbs you were coming.' Tony worded it as a statement.

'No. I was…more interested in other things,' Booth remarked, flashing his eyes towards his girlfriend. Tony caught his line of sight and gave a short chuckle. Clapping him firmly on the shoulder, the Italian let his grin widen.

'This will probably be the most entertaining thing that will happen this week that doesn't involve McGee. My short attention span salutes you,' Tony said.

'Why is the FBI in my building?'

Booth grimaced, slowly turning around to face Gibbs. The older man stood with his Sears sport jacket and polo shirt, blue eyes fixed squarely on the former Ranger.

'Agent Gibbs,' Booth started.

'Oh good, Jethro. I was just about to page you about my findings,' Brennan cut in smoothly, appearing at his side. Gibbs cut his gaze back and forth between them, a moment of contemplation elapsing before he gave a curt nod.

'This guy is Corp. You take my lead, got it?'

Booth felt himself instantly bristle in response. 'You offered a joint investigation-'

'Which you refused,' Gibbs pointed out somewhat lightly.

'Well, I've decided to take you up on that offer now. We closed the Dalton case. We can close this one too,' Booth told him, ignoring the whispers emanating from Tony and McGee. The doors to the pathology lab gave a metallic whisper to reveal Ducky and Ziva.

'Ah young Agent Booth!' Ducky greeted him affably. 'What brings you to our humble government-run facility? Aside from the delectable Dr Brennan of course.'

Ziva merely inclined her head in greeting, insinuating herself beside the rest of her team.

'Booth is here to assist us,' Gibbs said, letting some of the tension out of Booth's shoulders.

'As they say, two heads are better than one. Temperance has mentioned your infallible gut Agent Booth,' Ducky continued, leaning over the table alongside Brennan. 'Perhaps I should rephrase: two _guts _are better than one, yes?'

'What've you got Doc?' Gibbs asked, brushing past Booth to get a closer look at the charred bones.

'Well these bones were burnt days or weeks, rather than months,' Brennan started, putting on a fresh pair of latex gloves together with Ducky.

'Yes, I can see the accelerant pour pattern. Our young Marine would have been doused post-mortem,' Ducky commented.

'I haven't been able to ascertain cause of death yet due to the limitations presented by the remains. But I did find an anomaly,' Brennan told them, flicking on the X-Ray board. 'The victim suffered a compression fracture sometime between three to six months prior to his death,' she pointed out.

'Compression fractures are normally associated with osteoporosis, but the sacral vertebrae haven't even undergone final fusing,' Brennan murmured.

'Meaning what exactly?' Tony asked.

'Well, the victim would be in his twenties. With a bad back.'

'Succint summary Temperance,' Ducky said with a smile.

'Calvin Warren was Force Recon. The toughest of the tough,' McGee interjected.

'The kind that jump out of airplanes and get fractured vertebrae?' Booth clarified.

'What do we got on this guy?' Gibbs demanded.

'Warren was discharged three years ago. Marines tried to track him down, see if he wanted to re-up,' Tony answered.

'They checked his credit cards and bank accounts but he's totally off the grid,' McGee continued.

'Would his back be painful enough for medication?' Ziva put in.

'Oh most definitely my dear,' Ducky chimed.

'DiNozzo-'

'Order a search of the controlled substance database. On it boss!'

'You two recheck the paper trail. See if the Corp missed something,' Gibbs barked out, sending McGee and Ziva out the door as well. Booth resisted the urge to shuffle his feet.

'Agent Booth. A word?' Gibbs jerked his head towards the elevator.

_Crap._

'I'll be right back,' Booth forced himself to be reassuring, but stopped seeing the amused look on Brennan and Ducky's faces. Straightening his shoulders, he entered the lift where Gibbs stood impatiently. A floor up and the older Marine flicked the emergency switch.

_Huh. That's why DiNozzo was so freaked when I did that._

'Something on your mind Agent Gibbs?' Booth ventured when the older man simply stared at him.

'You get your head outta your ass yet, Ranger?'

'Excuse me?' Booth shot back defensively.

'When you died,' Booth didn't miss the sarcasm colouring that word, 'your girlfriend showed up at my door. Rambled on about whether you'd like the woman she's become. Whether she deserved you. She was drunk, lost that control she loves so much.'

Booth remained silent while Gibbs thinned his eyes.

'I like you Booth. You're what some would call good people. But the fact of the matter is, I like Tempe a whole lot more than I do you. I told you to take care of her and you blew it. The only reason why I haven't shot you yet is because Tempe wouldn't like it. You've made her want to toss a nine iron at your head,' Gibbs repeated the words he had said that night at the Blue Oyster.

'I love her,' Booth said forcefully.

'Yeah. I know you do. Another reason why I haven't shot you yet,' Gibbs tossed back. 'I was hitting targets before you graduated high school Booth. Don't screw up again. This was your first strike. You don't get another one. Got it?' They were almost nose to nose now. Booth expelled a breath but didn't speak, instead choosing to convey what he wanted to say through his eyes. Gibbs seemed to find what he was looking for.

The lights came back on and the elevator whirred to life. They stepped out, the two snipers shoulder to shoulder, as they entered the bullpen. Tony, McGee and Ziva stopped, gawking unabashedly.

'Going for coffee. Keep Booth posted.'

Gibbs left, leaving Booth behind with a trio of rabidly curious NCIS agents.

_What the hell just happened?_

**a/n: soooo sorry for the extremely late update! It's assignment time and my mother has been in hospital.**

**But could we maybe hit 45 reviews? Pretty please?**


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